


All The Demons

by Aiwyn



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-25 00:45:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1622927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aiwyn/pseuds/Aiwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He still can't figure out what is true what is not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The Demons

**Author's Note:**

> A big thanks to PeetaPan for the beta-ing (it's a word). Also, this is a bit weird but I do hope you'll understand it.

ALL THE DEMONS

-Bucky's PoV-

 

It was a heartbeat. 

 

Or maybe it was forever. He couldn't really tell how long it'd been, there was no time in the Cold. There was nothing in the Cold, apart from endless pain and void. 

 

He remembered the pain, sharp and sudden, on his left arm. He remembered the void he stared into, hoping it would never stare back. Not once did he get what he wished for. He had forgotten the idea of salvation a long, long time ago. He no longer knew what hope stood for. To him it was only letters forming a word that had nothing do with his  _mission._

 

A voice, a memory, an echo. Whatever it was - it wasn't true. He was alone in the Cold. Yet somebody grabbed him by the shoulders, brushed his hair from his face and called his name. Who was it? Why did the stranger do it? He groaned and tried to escape the grip for it might've been a hostile person. But the stranger didn't let go. Questions were running in his mind; they disturbed him.

 

He opened his eyes v e ry quickly and looked around, his gaze  darting from the corner to the window and to the other corner, then to the wall. Someone was still holding him, holding him against the bed. A dark figure, face hidden, eyes hidden. He himself showed no signs of recognition. But he knew, he did know that man, didn't he? That jaw, those lips, that nose, those icy blue eyes, and those eyebrows.  O, h e knew.

 

The man (Steve? he wondered) let go of him and sat next to him. He wondered if Steve was afraid of him. But then again - Steve was sitting right next to him, unarmed, wearing only white boxers. Not even a shirt.

 

He could think of so many ways to kill Steve right now.

 

He could strangle Steve with his bare hands, or he could suffocate Steve. He could also break his neck or take the knife from under his table and stab Steve. Or slit his throat. There was also the possibility of torture - to slowly drag the blade through his skin and flesh, to watch the blood stain the sheets, to cause as much pain as possible and yet keep the victim alive. He could do that.

 

Steve asked whether he was okay. He said he was. It was a lie, but he didn't need help. He was quite okay from the outside. There was nothing wrong with his body. It was only his mind, his mind that was not okay. It felt like his mind had split in two, like a skull that's been hit too hard.

 

Silence fell. He didn't do anything to stop it from falling. He could hear his own heartbeats -  _thump thump thump thump._ It carried on, normally, as if nothing happened. And nothing really happened, they just sat and talked and sat. Steve's hand never left his own lap, Bucky's head was never pressed against Steve's chest. Their lips never touched, and they never said anything to each other. 

 

The world didn't stop for them and they didn't stop for the world.

 

And when the sun's first light pierced its way through the curtains, the two of them were not sleeping in the same bed. No, Steve had gone to his own bed, hadn't he? And he himself had stayed there, he hadn't moved and he most definitely hadn't wrapped his arms around Steve. Because Steve was still just some man, and he did not know Steve. 

 

There was no past; there was no future. There were no words; there were no silences. They never even met.

 

Or maybe that was what all the demons told him. Maybe the truth was very differend.

 

Maybe he woke up from a nightmare and found himself next to Steve. Maybe Steve kissed him slowly and then wrapped his arms around him. Maybe he let the tears stream down his cheeks, and maybe he did know Steve. He couldn't tell.

 

After all, there was nothing in the Cold.

-The End-

 


End file.
